Dulce et Decorum est
by Locke
Summary: Please read and review! A short, simple piece. Cho arrives in the common room one night to talk to Harry about an issue that's been worrying her.


# Author's note: A simple, little, one-scene, completely standalone piece. Enjoy, and please review.

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# Dulce et Decorum est

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## _By Locke_

Harry sat alone in the Gryffindor common room. All around him echoed the silence of the night, the calmness dispelled only by the snapping glow of the candles, which quivered fitfully over tomorrow's homework.

A soft tap at the door snatched him from his thoughts. He put down his pen, then got to his feet and marched over the stone.

He pulled open the door, wincing at the stiff creak that banged about in the hush.

His mouth opened slightly when he saw Cho Chang standing there, her pretty features bathed in orange candlelight, her hands interlocked nervously over her lap.

'Can I come in, please?'

Hardly needing a moment to think, Harry nodded. Her led her numbly over to the table, where he pushed aside the piles of scrolls and books and offered her a seat opposite his own.

She stared at him for almost a minute, her eyes wide and appealing. Her hands moved to rest on the wood. Harry could see beads of sweat glisten against her skin.

Then, she licked her dry lips and opened her mouth to speak.

'I was told you'd still be up. There's something I've been meaning to ask you all summer,' she whispered quietly.

'Yes?'

She shut her eyes. He could see her body tremble slightly, shiver in the breeze that crept in under the curtains.

'Tell me how Cedric died.'

Not thinking, Harry sat forward, leaning against the table, her soft voice ringing against the stone, saying words that he desperately wanted to hear, then saying words that with all his soul he didn't. 

'You were the only person with him when he died. Please. I have to know.'

Suddenly, in an instant, that fateful night was brought to life inside Harry's mind. He saw a burst of sickly green light, skidding past him. Peals of thunder rocked the sky as forks of lightening stabbed into the ground, illuminating the body that lay sprawled just inches from him, sightless eyes staring pleadingly from a hollow, empty skull. 

'Voldemort murdered him,' he replied tactlessly, his mind reeling from the question, seeing only Cho sitting in front of him, the rest a disjointed blur, the situation that he had dreamt of so twisted and unreal that it could only have been a dream.

'But how… Please, Harry… Did he die a hero? I need to know.'

Harry stared down at the floor. He couldn't say what had happened, not whilst looking at Cho across the table.

'Harry?'

The question brought him back to reality. He saw her face, begging for the truth, staring at him quizzically. Her eyes were shining.

'Did you love him?' The words slipped out like blood from a wound, gushing in a stream of poison.

She turned away. 'I… I don't know… I think so…'

He hardened his gaze, steeled himself to talk. 'He was blasted down by the Kedavra curse. He didn't have time to do anything. Voldemort saw us; but he only wanted me. So he killed Cedric where he stood. He brushed him aside. There wasn't time to do anything.'

Cho's face collapsed. She leant forward over the table, her hair spilling around her as she wept, gently, her body rocking back and forth.

Harry felt her hand move onto his and tighten around it.

'He didn't die a hero. There was nothing noble about it. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Voldemort could have spared him but… he just killed him… Just like that…'

Cho looked up at him, grief shrouding her features. 'Would he have felt anything?'

Harry shook his head. 'No. There wouldn't have been time.'

She stood, slowly, pushing the chair back to its proper place, the warmth of her touch vanishing as she straightened.

'Thank you Harry,' she whispered as she turned to leave.

'For what?'

'For being honest.'

He watched her hair bob behind her as she left, letting the door click shut.

Then he sat back down at the table, watching shadows flicker over the room as his black, white thoughts flitted from one extreme to the other.


End file.
